Toodle-Loo

I could tell you my adventures, beginning from this morning... but its no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.
~ Alice in Wonderland

kwaheri and asante sana

xxx

~ hibiscus

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL.....

Seeing that we all away and trotting the globe for the next couple of weeks, we'd like to wish everybody a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS and an exceptionally good NEW YEAR!

All the best and more from the Musers in the New Year!

Bon Matin avec le cafe

It's been a while ladies, but wishing you all a de-caf Monday 

and wondrous week ahead.

J'aime un cafe et un bon rire un lundi matin, n'est pas?

Allez le cafe!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sILvmyNGAI

Starters and Changes

The past year...

From the askari peppered streets of Dar, to the seriously manicured plains of the Serengeti, to the mountains  in the cape, and this evening to looking after a sourdough starter.  I was recently in absolute dire need of bread preparation - sour dough bread in particular.  Finding myself with a bit of time on my hands, I began the long journey of sour dough bread making.  This, it seems, is only for the faint hearted.  Anyone with a bit of gall and guts will get seriously frustrated with the starter (in bread terms - a flour and water mixture that is the living stuff that makes it rise).  They are incredible things, alive and all that.  But they are a bit wussy-like too??  I feel like I have to pussy foot around it - lest the bubbles stop.  And then, after nursing the starter for a few weeks I expect a teeny bit of give back - in the form of a loaf of bread (sorry, I am not asking for a lot here... not quite turning water into wine...).  So for two days, I slog over the dough-making (intensive labour, this part not for the faint hearted) and then leave it to rise.  Only thing is: the bugger doesn't rise!  A tired bubble here and a minute bubble there and thats it.  Nada.  Nothing else.  I turned on the under floor heating for crumbs sakes?!  I'm a little out of love at the moment... and just wonder whether sour dough starters should harden the fuck up???

It's a debate - feel free to disagree (she smiles hoping that few MTM followers will be sour dough bakers).  I will make sure there is more information on the new blog, and so will let you know of the progress (God willing there is some) in the next couple of weeks.

So Hibiscus will be quiet for a while as I hope to open up my own little page somewhere out there, and as always when one something ends it's a certain good time for reflection.  And a glass of wine.

Over and out

xxx

~ hibiscus

Christmas in July

I know, although its freezing in Jozi (0 degrees this morning) it must be sweltering in Dar! So the thought of having Christmas in July must be preposterous! But yes, I am already doing Christmas designs and while doing research came across these innovative ideas to bring some Christmas flavour to your house. 


I must admit, I am not a big fan of Christmas and always on the look out for new ideas to get into the spirit. Please add some if you have any more!


freezing maisha out of Jozi


ps. Frangipani is visiting and went on the Gautrain for the first time yesterday! Look out for her post on the experience!

How to be Nice & Roast chuck

Its pretty simple, most of the time.  Reflective in the great simplicity of the word - 'nice'.  But sometimes it feels like all you're doing is talking a lot of talk and walking a lot of walk and not reeeeally getting the message through.  Apart from misleading other nice walkers it can fustrate even the most patient of us.
So in order to be straight, I reckon sometimes you have to bend off the little path of nice.  And be straight.  And say it:
"Ah, (straight talk inserted here), thank you".

This is a recipe - which in my mind is straight.  It ain't no chicken in goose down - it just is.  Don't think about it, just cook it.   Although do bear in mind who you cook it for - this is a good dish for friends and Sundays.  And Mondays actually...

Roast Chuck

1 large chicken - about 2kg in weight - the absolute best your money can buy.  Organic, free range, open aired - anything close to having it come straight from your back yard
1 lemon
salt and pepper
drizzle of honey (if you can get your hands on local eg Iringa honey that has a whole lot of florally sugarness - do!!!)

2 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks
2 onions, sliced into wedges
garlic pieces - not peeled


1.  Preheat the oven - 160C.
2.  So take a nice large roasting tin - this bird needs breathing space - and lay down the the onions and carrots.  We'll throw the garlic pieces in later so they don't burn.
3.  Wash and dry the chicken with paper towel - its a little fussy but a dry skin cooked is a crisp skin.   Sit the bird happily on the layer of onions and carrots, and squeeze over the juice of the lemon.  If you like a lemony roast, nows the time to put those lemon halves in the cavity.  Feel free to tie the legs together.
4.  Grind over the pepper and salt, and place in the oven.
5.  Baste the chuck every 30 minutes - there should be lots of juices in the pan.
6.  After 1.5hrs, add the garlic pieces - a handful or so - and drizzle over the honey.
7.  Place the bird back in the oven for another 30 mins - a total cooking time of 2 hours at this temperature.
8.  Remove from the oven and allow to rest for 10 minutes before carving.
9.  Whilst you are waiting, make the gravy by removing the carrots and onions from the pan (if you want to eat them, if not, leave them in for a more robust flavour), then whisking in the flour.
10.  Add enough liquid to the pan to get enough gravy for your bunch, and taste for seasoning.  Whisk for about 5 minutes, then serve.  (In winter I have been known to add a bit of cream to the gravy.  'Alo soldier.)

11.  Frangipani, please test and review recipe. ;)

Right, just off to work hard and be nice.

~ hibiscus

Mooshi Malva Pud

Ayoba to you all!  What has grabbed (and I use the word because I find it difficult to describe it any other way) all of us here in South Africa, from townships to tea parties, is nothing short of a very infectious fever.  The maddening sound of the vuvuzela that you loathe to hate because it's drenched in patriotism, along with everything else - it's a new experience for me, for South Africa, and Africa.  I like it.  I could go as far to say I love it.
Along these lines, I was thinking of a terribly patriotic dish.  The vuvuzela of the kitchen.  Desert rose has covered the bobotie - and a fine cover that was of finger licking deliciousness - so it left me with the thought of sugar.  Something sweet to follow the spiced mincy meal... why it has to be melva...!
If you havent made the bobotie yet - do it, and then make this to follow.

  The always present in SA recipes - apricot jam - (somebody bless the stuff) in the soft, spongey mixture, which is then drowned in butter, cream and sugar.  Happy everyone?

180g sugar
2 eggs
1 tbsp apricot jam
1 tsp bicarb
pinch of salt
15g butter
1 tsp vinegar
100ml milk

For the sauce:
250ml cream
100g butter
150g sugar
100ml water

1.  Beat the eggs and sugar well in a food processor until thick and creamy, add the jam.
2.  Sieve together the flour, bicarb and salt.  Melt the butter and add the vinegar,  Add this butter/vinegar mixture to the milk, and then fold into the egg mixture alternately with the flour.
3.  Pour into an oven proof dish, and cover tightly with foil.
4.  Bake in a hot oven (180C) for 40 minutes.
5.  Melt together ingredients for the sauce and pour over the pudding as it comes out of the oven.
6.  Serve - and yes I'm sorry but you have to - with generous splashes of cream.

~ hibiscus

Here & Now

So, I spent ages typing this blog and uploading photos - alas the photos didn't upload (or so she thought....) Until I hit the preview button and there they were, just a big ol link of mad letters and numbers on this the editing page.... but they shine on the preview...?!?!? SO.... here's to hoping you see them shine!



After an incredible lunch with the Andizi family (and waaaaay to much food - I will deny this as one of my faults - it was, simply, too damned delicious) I drove home from the cooler valley of Ceres through the windy pass with a bag of naartjies as my companion, I thought again how lucky I am to be here. Don't get me wrong - I'm not only harping on about the cape - I think the same of most of the places I have lived... but it's a great thing when your eyes pick up the small things to be grateful for... don't ya think?

Happy Birthday Andizi, and Happy Living all....
xxxx
"But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped or tamed.
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.
You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.
And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and silent of night." (Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)

~hibiscus

Life's too short to stuff a cherry tomato

www.julesmercer.com

Lesson learned:

Life's too short to stuff a cherry tomato.

And in order to say shit like that you need to have stuffed a cherry tomato. (Tick)

"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." ~ JRR Tolkien

~ hibiscus

The McSteamy

image from http://www.insidesocal.com/outinhollywood/dane_mh2.jpg

Okay, so the feet are playing up again. Which is a bugger, because I basically need them to do anything and everything - one of the main things being making my dosh - something I very much look forward to doing again! Anyway, whilst contemplating going to see another podiatrist, I remembered my first visit in London a few years back...

So I manage to find a squack close to my area of work, so that I could take a lunch break (heavens!) and fix the problem that are my feet. Rushing through Waterloo station to find the correct train (and I have to be sure, this is a 15 minute direct one...) I pondered the cost of this exercise. I was not entirely sure of how much it would all cost, but then I had no clue about this sort of thing - the word "consultation" to me simply means there will be hundreds of costs after a chat/consultation. But then, when it comes to health, well one doesn't really have a choice, does one?

As I entered the doctors room I was glad, very glad, I owned a credit card. I was not however happy with my choice of socks that morning. Here's the picture:

- incredibly smart and oh so techno room, computers and boxes of intelligent life everywhere

- one chair, for me

- one chair, in front of the computer, for the doctor

- me, looking flustered and out of place in two different coloured socks and trashy red toe nails...

- the doctor. the doctor. just... quite.... beautiful.....

I had to take in a lung full of what I hoped was class A oxygen to steady myself, this doctor was rather good-looking. No, sorry, incredibly good looking. Just mighty damn fine actually. Okay, more than one deep breath. He spoke well, his deep concern for my pain was intoxicating. I simply melted on the spot.

The rest I forget. All I can find in my memory bank is an image of this doctor. Sure - he gave me inner soles, mentioned something about my feet 'not being quite right' (no shit, sherdoc), and a couple of mumbles. The rest I forget.

Oh - forgive me - I remember the cost. Only GBP400 later and I have absolutely no idea what is wrong with my feet, why they ache constantly and what to do about them. And - importantly - why these inner soles will not fit in half the shoes I wear everyday.

So I find myself in a bit of a pickle when it comes to booking my next podiatrist appointment, I don't have another 400 quid and I certainly haven't had any memory enhancements which would make it all seem like a sensical move.

I think I may just have to put my feet up for a bit, with a cuppa.

~hibiscus

The Nicest Place in the world

You know those days, we all have them, when dusk settles in and you start feeling that desperate longing. The white pillows on your bed start serenading your hair, and your feet feel that urge to rest on your duvet? It really doesn't matter what the content of your day was, how green or blue or soft or bumpy, the nicest place to be is in your bed.
Good night, sleep tight,
~hibiscus

Coffee and Amarula Ice-cream

"Never eat more than you can lift." – Miss Piggy, Muppet extraordinaire    

Dar weather to me is a constant flow of sun with one or two (thank god) cloudy days… And when things get too warm, get ice-cream. I did this recipe without an ice-cream machine, to me all ice-cream recipes should work without it (although it does produce something quite heavenly, undeniable). The coffee in this gives it that glorious caffeine loaded flavour, whilst the Amarula simply has you begging for more…  

Kilimanjaro coffee Ice-cream with Amarula & Bougainvillea    

500ml Cream 

80-100ml very strong Kilimanjaro Coffee (plunger/espresso) 

110g Sugar

6 Egg yolks

5 tbsp Amarula 

Bougainvillea flowers, to decorate

Heat the cream on a low heat until just starts to get hot – the top will quiver slightly. In a large bowl, beat the egg yolks and the sugar until pale and cream. Whisking all the time, pour the hot cream into the egg yolks Stir in the Amarula – taste – you may want to add another spoon or so… Chill in the freezer overnight Serve big scoops in sugar cones, and use the bougainvillea flowers to decorate. 

Enjoy! Hibiscus

ps. many thanks to our favourite photographer Hendri Lombard for the lovely pics!